


atone

by unnohrian (cuddlebros)



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Body Worship, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Lesbian Sex, Slow Romance, Trust, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-20 06:15:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20670662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuddlebros/pseuds/unnohrian
Summary: Though Nyx plays an active part in the army, you notice that she keeps herself at a distance emotionally. After catching wind of a magical artefact that might finally show Nyx her true self, you start down a path of building trust with the woman you've come to love from afar.





	atone

**Author's Note:**

> Fire Emblem was icky in making Nyx look so young, but she is canonically a grown adult woman, and I hope this fic works around the ickiness the way I intended. I wasn't sure about writing this fic in the first place, but here we are. This fic is subject to change!

“Corrin, darling, I love you dearly--but if even _ one page _ of _one_ of these books is torn, your little friend--”

“No time for threats, Camilla--we have searching to do!” Corrin is a force of nature, slipping nimbly around her older sister and into the dusty brightness of the private library behind her.

It had been a struggle to convince Camilla to allow you to look through her private library. Convincing her to allow you to even _ enter _ her fathers’ library was even harder--but with Corrin on your side, you had managed it. There was something you were searching for, and since Corrin thought it was worth her time, Camilla had found herself roped into the search, albeit reluctantly. The three of you form a small research team, spending hours poring over books that had been collecting dust for decades.

“If it’s anywhere, it’s going to be in here. The quicker we start looking, the sooner we find it!” And with that ever-optimistic spirit, your search begins anew.

The first day of snowfall, you discover just how close you are. The light fades fast these days, and with it, the time you have to read. Camilla had banned fire in the library, even candles, due to how fragile the tomes could be; but in the dim light of dusk, you see something. “Found it!”

The text is nestled between paragraphs of thick magical lingo, terminology you had no idea how to decipher, but it’s there; a thread to follow to something more. There’s no way you’d be able to work this out on your own--you had many strengths, but magical knowledge was not one of them. You’re of no help to Corrin or Camilla, so you show them the text and let them bury themselves in study. It’s hard to be passive, but you would only slow them down.

Camilla calls for you not a few days later, and when you enter her library again, you find good news. “It was difficult to decipher, but we have reason to believe it’s in Nestra. The two of us cannot leave at the moment, but you can. Head here,” Corrin circles a spot on your map, the bones of a theatre that has sat unused for decades. It was too small to keep up with the ever-increasing population, but it was fabled for extraordinary performances while active. Perhaps the chemistry of the dancers had something to do with the mirror? “We had Xander sign and seal a royal order, which will ensure the city will assist you in its recovery.”

The three of you spend a few hours discussing the logistics of retrieving something so large on your own. You’ve come to a conclusion on every aspect of the trip when Corrin asks you if you’re sure about doing this alone.

“No,” you admit, “I don’t have any idea how any of this is actually going to go. But we have no one to spare, and this is important to her. I’ll make it work.”

“She’s lucky to have someone like you looking out for her,” Camilla says. “Be safe, and make it back in one piece, okay? Corrin won’t forgive you if you don’t. I’m sure Nyx won’t, either.”

With a solemn promise to make it back safe and sound, you head to bed, in search of the much-needed rest you’d need for the coming quest.

* * *

“How did you find this?” Nyx asks, her voice full of wonder. “I have followed every lead for decades, every hint of it that flew by me on the wind, and nothing.”

“Corrin and Camilla did the heavy lifting,” you admit. “Academically, at least. I asked for permission to investigate Garon’s library and retrieved it from Nestra. Some of the tomes we found, oh my gods, it’s terrifying to know that they were in Garon’s hands. I’m glad they’re in safer hands, now.”

“All this time, the thing keeping me from this mirror was a tyrant and his private library?” She sighs. “I suppose it’s a relief that it wasn’t my lack of effort, but it is still frustrating.”

When she moves towards the cloth hanging from the frame, you get the sudden sense that you're somewhere you shouldn't be. “Should I leave?”

“Why? You brought it here for me, took my quest upon yourself. If you wish to see my true form, then I will not deny you. If you wish to leave, the same will be true.”

The offer was tantalising. You so loved this woman, though she didn’t know it, and there is no question of the honour it would be to watch her see herself as a person she could love, too. Would it be too obtrusive to stay? But then you remember who it is you’re talking about--Nyx wouldn’t have offered if she hadn’t meant it, and so you decide to stay, taking a seat behind her on her bed as she removes the cloth covering the Mirror.

Her true form takes you by surprise. She’s tall--taller than you by a few inches, at least. She’s still slim, but she looks strong, with muscles toned from years of magic training and self-defence. 

The biggest surprise, though, are her eyes. They’re so kind. So tired. At the corners are the beginnings of crow’s feet. You wonder how much she’d smiled in her life.

“You’re crying,” you point out, needlessly.

“Of course I am,” she laughs, rubbing at the tear tracks under her eyes, “look at me! I got--I _ grew _ ! I got older. I got _ stronger _.”

“I hope you don’t mind me saying this--but you’re beautiful.”

“Why would I mind that?” Nyx sighs, and it’s an incredibly loaded noise. “I could have had this, you know. If not for my heinous actions, I could be this woman right now. I could have had this woman’s life.”

You’re unsure you can even imagine the barrage of thoughts throwing themselves at her right now, the weight of the things she’d lost. You have nothing to offer her to help share that weight, but you rest your hand on her shoulder in comfort. She pulls herself into you, letting you pull her in close to your chest and holding her until her mind calms.

“Thank you. This--this was better than I could ever have hoped.”

“You’re welcome, Nyx. I hope it helps bring you some sort of closure.”

She nods, and detaches from you. “I think it will. My apologies for asking this, but would you mind allowing me some time alone with the Mirror? I have a few years of questions I would rather answer in private.”

You comply without question, giving Nyx one last hug before letting her have her privacy for the evening. The rest of the day, you wonder what she’s finding out about herself, about the choices she’s made, the person she is. If she can see even a glimpse of what you see, you think, she’ll realise she’s worth more than an endless search for atonement. You hope beyond hope that she can see it now, too. 

* * *

Nyx often trained with others--her pride in her work did not overshadow her humility, her ability to see that others had strengths that she could learn from. You were proud of the work you did, but you weren’t under any illusions: you were nowhere near the level of skill that the elite of Corrin’s inner circle exhibited. It made little sense, therefore, when she asked you to train with her: but who were you to refuse?

The training ground never looked the same way two days in a row. Weapon training rotated, the skill level of the troops rotated, and sometimes it was reserved by a group of Corrin’s inner circle. People ebbed and flowed, and today it seemed the tide had ebbed: the courtyard was empty, save for a couple of new recruits splayed out on the floor, recovering from what seemed to have been an intense spear sparring session.

“What did you have in mind? Magic isn’t my forté, I’m afraid.”

“I know. I was thinking of how I could repay you--I know you said I have no need to, so consider this selfish on my part. You know not even the most basic of protection magic, do you?” When you shake your head, she nods. “Then, if you wish, I will teach you. It would be reassuring to know you could at least protect yourself, should the need arise.”

Despite not knowing the most about magic, you’re no fool. You can see what she’s doing--matching your compassion with her own. She’s bringing you closer to her, allowing you into a space that had been solely hers since she had joined the army. In this show of trust, she’s opening herself up to you, and so you let yourself be open, too. You follow her movements and her directions to a tee until she’s happy enough in your ability to start testing your defences.

“You are not the first to take interest in me, you know,” Nyx says, throwing a weak fire spell at you. She grins at you as your protective ward holds, then casts another one. “There have been those who were drawn to me because I filled some… some sick fantasy of theirs. They didn’t care that I was an adult, a woman with feelings and pain and needs, not some child they wished to dominate. It’s why I don’t--I haven’t pursued anyone in so long. So very, very long.”

“Does this… does this mean that you’ll give me a chance?

“Oh, how I want to, and you have done me such kindness that I will tell you the truth. I do not trust anymore. Not like I used to.”

You nod. “I don’t think anyone could blame you. I certainly can’t.”

“You’re not angry?”

“Why should I be?”

“You went through so much for me--brought this mirror to me even though nothing was promised to you in return, even though it cost you in time and strength and pain--and you aren’t angry at me?”

You shrug. “I never expected anything in return. Well, nothing except perhaps to make you feel more comfortable within the group. We all care for you, Nyx. I may have feelings for you, but that doesn’t mean you’re ever in my debt for kindnesses I do for you. What a world that would be!”

“I think the rest of us live in that world, little gem. It’s a relief that you don’t.” 

* * *

Nyx doesn’t invite you back to her room for months. When she does, the first thing you notice is the mirror. It stands opposite the foot of her bed, up against the wall, taking up most of the height of the room and a third of the width. The meagre light of the evening refracts off of it, shattering into sunbows that paint her room in soft yellow light.

“You’re interesting,” she says. She travels the room with the grace she never drops, then sits on her bed and appraises you with kind eyes. “You have wanted me for a while, but you’ve not not been boorish about it. I’ve never met someone like you.”

“Is that a good thing?” you ask with a wry smile.

“It could be.” She gestures you closer, until your legs are between hers. You tower over her, technically, but you know that all the power in the room is hers. “Tell me, would you kiss me if I asked?

“Would you ask?”

She hesitates. “I want you to. I want you to kiss me, and more, but--but it will have to be on my terms.”

“I love you, Nyx.” Perhaps it was too soon to say, but it was true. You had known you loved her for months, and you weren’t expecting her to reciprocate just yet. You just needed her to know. “However you want this, as long as you want it--that’s what we’ll do.”

That response is how you come to be kneeling in front of her, your love sitting on the edge of the bed above you, opposite the Mirror.

“Show me what your want entails. Show me what it's like to be loved by you.”

You smile up at her, only too happy to hear her ask. “It will be my honour.”

You start with her feet. They’re hardened by years of her wandering around barefoot, but that only makes your hands move with more certainty. The pads of your fingers dig into the muscles of her foot, from the heel to the sole, leaving slightly more relaxed muscles in their wake. Nyx sighs at the relief, the warmth that follows your touch. When your work is done, you press a quick kiss to each foot.

“Every part of you is perfect, Nyx. This body may not have been your choice, but it has served you so well. These feet have carried you from danger, and they led you to us. To me.” When you look up to check if she’s okay, Nyx has her eyes closed, and a smile on her lips. It’s the okay you need to keep going.

Your journey continues up her body, massaging her calves until they’re soft and pliable, only touching her thighs when she nods at you. When her eyes are open, her gaze is torn between you and her own reflection, and you can’t blame her. Knelt before her, you wish you could see what she sees.

“Such strong legs… the mirror shows you them long and muscled, but to me, they still feel soft. Either way, they keep you nimble. Keep you moving. And they’re gorgeous, either way.”

You keep going, hands reverently grazing her stomach and hips until they can reach no further. Undeterred, you rise, moving to sit behind her. Your thighs trap her where she sits--not that she’s aching to get away.

She melts into you, her slim shoulders tensing and relaxing as your hands warm the well-worked muscles there into tenderness. Nyx hums when your thumbs work into a particularly knotted spot, hisses as the knot unravels. You travel methodically around her shoulders, her neck, even a gentle massage of her hands, until she’s breathing deep and heavy, and seems content, even in the reflection of the mirror. 

“You take on so much stress, so much worry for our little band of friends, but you keep everyone at a distance. These arms, the muscles of your shoulder, they’re taut with months of spell-casting to keep our friends safe. To keep you alive. Your body works so hard, Nyx--it’s wonderful, both in and out of your reflection. I love this body because it’s _ yours _.”

When you look up again, her gaze is still on the mirror image of you. Her eyes are bright with affection and warmth, a look you're not used to being on the receiving end of. Your heart leaps when she takes your hands in hers, guiding it to her veil. Her permission is unspoken, but you know what she’s telling you. Ever so slowly, you untie her veil from behind her head and let it fall to the floor. She only allows you a glimpse of her lips before she’s turning in your lap and kissing you deep, threading her fingers behind your neck and laying claim to every inch of your mouth. She kisses like a woman who _ wants _ \--a woman who wants _ you _.

When you finally part, Nyx’s cold, gentle hands cup your cheeks in a way that makes your skin feel like silk. “I don’t know if I deserve you,” she admits, “or the love you bleed, but if you let me, I’ll make you feel so good that we can believe it, even for a moment.” Her eyes search yours for an answer, and light up when she sees you nod.

She moves you to all fours, facing the Mirror. You follow her fingers as they trace the skin of your back, and you shiver. Her touch leaves a trail of warm magic in its wake, something you’d never felt before, something that warms you to your core. Her eyes follow her fingers, and her appraisal has you nervous. She can see all of you--not just in your nakedness, but the Truth of you in the Mirror. Does she like what she sees?

“Beautiful.” She answers your silent question with a whisper under her breath. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a woman. You will have to let me know how I do.”

Her words have you expecting her hands to be hesitant. Instead, they head directly to your cunt, trailing through your folds with seasoned ease. Her fingertips replay that trail over and over, collecting slick until the length of them are coated in you. A sigh of satisfaction fans over the back of your neck.

“You really did enjoy worshipping me, didn’t you? Pleasure from service… it suits you, little gem.” Your cheeks flush. She’s right, but it’s knowledge seldom shared.

Nyx’s fingertips dip into you, her forefinger and middle finger, lithe and flexible. She lets the stretch linger, her long, slow movements not opening you up any further, just gently searching for somewhere inside you that will make you tremble. Glancing up at your reflection pulls a groan from you--Nyx looks like queen dominating you, her larger figure almost imposing save for the fact that she’s two fingers deep in you.

“You’ve pleasured yourself before, I assume? Tell me, darling, how close am I from the spot that makes your toes curl?”

“Just a little further,” you beg, and her fingers explore you further, making you jolt with the sensation, “to the right--yes, _ yes _\--oh Goddess, Nyx, right there--”

Nyx doesn’t treat the area harshly, instead stroking it with every thrust until you’re floating on the highs of pleasure, not yet cresting, but simmering in lust.

“Your love is so gentle. I could feel it in you the first time our eyes met. My love may be a little rougher, but I know you’ll enjoy it.”

Her other hand, the one not turning your insides to mush, grazes your stomach, making you cry out with sensation. It doesn’t stop there, trailing down to your clit only to make your knees tremble that much more. You can feel your own wetness fall down your thighs: you can only imagine what a messy picture you make for her. 

“Fuck, Nyx, please…”

“Your begging is so sweet, my darling,” she coos, then giggles when you cry out at her increased pace on your clit. “Oh, and you pull my fingers in so well, too. You really are perfect, hm? I’m sure you’ll come perfectly, too.”

She clearly wanted to know as soon as possible, because her fingers only hasten in pace, relentless on your clit and determined as they thrust inside you. It’s barely minutes later that you’re crying out her name as she fucks you through your orgasm.

After she finally detaches from you, she pulls you up to the head of the bed and lets you cuddle into her. Her skin is warm now, and though the two of you are sweaty, she doesn’t hesitate to pull you ever closer to her.

“You make me feel as if I can keep moving forward,” she says after a few moments of silence, “as if I haven’t stagnated. If you stay by my side, I would be indebted to you.”

“Nyx, it will not be a debt that keeps us together.” Your smile has her relaxing into the sheets. “I love you, and as long as you love me too, we shall be equals, challenging each other only in how happy we can make the other.”

“Then challengers in love we will be. It will be my honour to learn to love you, little gem.”

You find yourself falling asleep in her arms with excited warmth brewing in your chest.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was requested: "Can you do a story with Nyx? I know she's trapped in a young body but she's definitely not underage, and I've always found it really sad that no one will touch her in stories and art and all because of that, she shouldn't be denied love for something beyond her control right?" I needed some encouragement to get into the character, but she's compelling, and the requester's further ask of her being "sensitive about her condition when it comes to love, and we could be, reassuring her that we love every part of her, as a woman loves a woman, her different beauty isn't an obstacle to us" which is right up my alley.
> 
> I would have written a seven page saga about the reader going on a great journey to find the Mirror if not stopped but I also know that's not what people read my stuff for, so we have a vague description of the things she does to retrieve it. Also if the Mirror has like a canon location I'm SORRY I just had to put it somewhere near enough that it was recoverable. Suspension of disbelief?
> 
> This turned into a lot more of just General Fluff, the importance of friendship and trust as a basis for a relationship, and attempting to work on technical aspects of writing than proper, well thought out smut, but I hope it's enjoyable either way. Some of the writing feels jagged/stilted/drawn-out to me, but I've been stuck in editing hell for so long I don't know how to fix it. Perhaps it'll come to me in a dream, or I'll just rewrite this sometime.
> 
> As always, you can find me at cuddlebros.tumblr.com, where I take suggestions, criticism (constructive, though!), and you can tell me if there are any mistakes (because this is totally un-beta'd and I edit while I am... Very Tired) or anything you see! (And I have a link to my ko-fi there now, too!)


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